


Forgive me, brother.

by ireneadlered



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireneadlered/pseuds/ireneadlered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little ficlet about Mycroft right after Sherlock's death, when he's unaware that his little brother is actually alive. Even the toughest men break after loosing someone dear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive me, brother.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little ficlet that I made to add my graphic. Yeah.

” Have you seen him?” 

Mycroft glanced back to his mother. She had been crying again before Mycroft had arrived. He tried not to mention about it. 

” Seen who?” 

“  _Him_. ” She was having trouble saying his name after his death. Afraid that she’ll break down completely. ” Have you visited his grave yet?” Mummy asked, failing to keep her voice steady.  Mycroft didn’t answer. She didn’t need an answer. His answer was written all over his face. 

” Mycroft..” Mummy started, but Mycroft stopped and got up. 

” I must be going now, Mummy. Work to do.” He muttered straightening his jacket. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to talk about such tedious things as feelings. There was a sudden twist in his heart when the realization hit him; he sounded just like his little brother. The tall man stopped. He gripped the handle of his umbrella even tighter as he tried to keep his composure. Holmes men didn’t cry. They were strong.  _They didn’t cry_.

Mrs Holmes eyed her oldest son with her blue eyes and what she saw, was pain. Pain of loosing a brother. Pain of loosing someone you cared about deeply and had looked after for many years now.  ” Mycroft, darling.” Violet Holmes started and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. ” Visit his grave.”  

Black, cold marble. His tombstone even fit him perfectly. Big golden letters indicated the name of the person who had been buried there. Unfortunately for Mycroft, this person was his baby brother. 

_Sherlock Holmes_ , it said. Nothing else. 

When they had asked him if he wanted to put something on the tombstone, he had never replied. Sherlock wouldn’t have wanted anything simple and dull such as: Beloved son, friend, a brother. No. That wasn’t him. 

What was he supposed to say? Hello? Goodbye? 

Mycroft sighed. 

” Remember the day when Mummy had her big dinner party? ” He wasn’t sure why was he doing this. ” She was so stressed about that. Fussing about, you know her.” He paused. ” You were five and Mummy told me to look after you while you played outside. I didn’t want to be your babysitter, I wanted to be with grown ups with their fancy way of talking and wine glasses. God I remember how bitter I was. We were sitting under that tree and you came to me with a frog. I told you off, didn’t I? I was so angry.” Mycroft paused again to glance away from the grave. ” I was so angry at Mummy, at you and every guest in that ridiculous party. Because it wasn’t fair.” There was something heavy, building up inside of him. It hurt like hell.

” And then, you came back and sat down next to me. Remember what you said, Sherlock? What you told me? You said ‘Don’t worry, one day you’ll have your own parties with lots of people and then you don’t have to look after me.’” 

He stopped. This was utterly ridiculous. Yet something made him go on. 

” I’ve always looked after you, Sherlock. Always. Mummy told me to look after you and to make sure nothing bad happened to you. And now..I’ve failed. I made a promise that I couldn’t keep. 

_Forgive me, brother_ .” 


End file.
